


Risky Business

by spookyknight



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fuck Or Die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-29 22:46:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyknight/pseuds/spookyknight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Running from the Royal Guard on a distant planet, the Doctor and Rose hide out in a posh hotel and stumble into more trouble than they ever expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Risky Business

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thedoctordanceswithrose](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=thedoctordanceswithrose).



> For thedoctordanceswithrose. Fulfills “Fuck or Die” for trope bingo. Thank you to foxmoon/fadewithfury for the beta and all my fellow writers for their help. You know who you are. ^_^

The day started out normal enough. With running. Their plot to help freedom fighters on Aembra overthrow the corrupt royal family had been discovered sometime in the night. The morning saw alarms rung and guards rallied. Since the TARDIS was currently behind enemy lines, running was really the only option.

The Doctor led them through the narrow alleyways between the grey, industrial-looking buildings in the city. Finally he settled on a hiding place, pulling Rose through the glass doors into an elegant marble lobby. With a mahogany reception desk across the room from gold lift doors leading to the upper floors, she recognized the interior of a hotel when she saw one.

He took care of booking the room while Rose admired the glittering crystal chandelier hanging above them. With a card key in one hand and hers holding his other, the Doctor whisked them into the elevator and then down the corridor to their room without a word.

Rose entered and made a beeline for the bed, sitting on the edge and bouncing on the firm mattress. She barely took in her surroundings in her haste to finally sit down and catch her breath. The room seemed nearly immaculate; ivory walls, cream colored carpet, and crisp white linens on the bed. The dark ceiling had minimal recessed lighting but there were also floor lamps illuminating the bare walls in pastels; soft blue, fair pink, and pale green.

The Doctor stopped in the middle of the bedroom, looking cagey and suspect with his hands shoved in his pockets. He surveyed the room briefly before his eyes finally settled on her.

“We’re in a bit of trouble,” he admitted.

“I’ll say,” she returned lightly, giving him a teasing smile. “Those guards want our heads!”

“Yes, well… aside from that.” He tugged absently on his earlobe, a recognizable gesture of uncertainty, and looked everywhere in the room but at her. “There’s more.”

Rose stared at him pointedly, inviting him to elaborate. He cleared his throat.

“As you know, we came in here to escape the, erm… murderous royal guard outside.” He rocked forward on the balls of his feet as he explained, barely containing the nervous energy in his body. “And rather effectively, I might add. All’s quiet inside. But I had to tell a bit of a creative lie to get us in here.”

She snorted. “As usual.”

“Yeah,” the Doctor exhaled roughly. “This lie was a bit… specific.” He paused and swallowed purposefully. “They think you’re an escort. And I’m your client.”

“ _What_?” Rose balked.

He put up his hands in a defensive gesture, eyes going wide. “It was the only way to get us in here, I assure you. This is a place of business; employees only. And they think you’re an employee.”

When she thought about it, the story made sense. She vaguely remembered the driving force of Aembra’s merchant economy revolving around sex, so it was probably inevitable they’d encounter it while hiding out in the city.

She shrugged. “They don’t have to know what we’re up to in here.”

The Doctor frowned noticeably. “ _Well_ …” he began, drawing out the word even longer than normal and oh, that didn’t sound good. “As the -- very helpful -- front desk agent explained in the check in procedure, that bed is a receptor.” He nodded to the piece of furniture upon which she was currently sitting. “It measures and collects sexual energy, which is then converted to power the city.”

Rose scrambled off the bed, glaring at it suspiciously. “So they know if we…” she trailed off, biting her lip anxiously.

He nodded. “This room isn’t free. It’s paid for in energy absorption. If we don’t perform, we’ll be thrown in jail...”

“That’s not so --” she started but he talked over her.

“Where we’ll be denied food and water for about a hundred Earth days,” he finished.

Rose blinked in surprise. “Why?”

“It’s the standard Aembran punishment,” he clarified on a sigh. “Their people can withstand it. Humans, however…” He shot her a meaningful look.

“What are we gonna do?” she asked plainly.

“Exactly what they expect.”

“ _What_?” Rose exclaimed in astonishment for the second time.

“Relax, Rose,” the Doctor soothed quietly. “We're not going to have sex.”

“But you said --”

“We improvise! Good at that, we are.” He winked at her. “We’ve just got to trick the receptors,” the Doctor explained, eyes wide and animated with the dawning of a plan. “And -- oh!” He spotted something out of the corner of his eye. “Easy enough. Because look what our lovely hosts have provided for us.”

He indicated a black lacquered dry bar by the far wall, which Rose had missed in her first casual perusal of the room, containing a silver tray and a glass bottle.

She gave him a quizzical look. “Champagne and strawberries?”

“Sparkling elderwine and herzberries, but yes.” he clarified excitedly, retrieving the tray and bottle. “Dopamine release in the brain can be encouraged by several rewarding experiences, including palatable food and sex.”

“So we enjoy the, um… herzberries and the receptors will think we’re…”

“Yep!”

The Doctor rested the tray of berries on the bed with an exaggerated flourish, freeing both hands to open the wine. He peeled the foil swiftly and removed the cork with a loud ‘pop’ followed by the soft fizzle of bubbles inside. Rose crossed the room to inspect the now empty bar.

“No glasses,” she discovered.

He glanced at the bar and back at her. “Never stopped us before,” he quipped with a winning smile and handed her the bottle. She lifted the wine to her lips but he threw his hands up, flagging her to stop. “Ah… on the bed.”

With a sigh, Rose sat down on the bed next to the tray of fruit and took a long draw of the sparkling wine. The flavor was vaguely floral and effervescent with the dry tang of alcohol just at the finish. Overall, a pleasant taste, and she took another sip with the hopes it might help tame her nerves.

“This is all fine to eat, right?” she checked as she looked over the rows of berries neatly arranged on the tray.

“Oh yes,” he confirmed, plopping down on the other side of the tray from her. The mattress bounced a bit with his movement. “And even better! Look, they’re covered in chocolate!”

Rose smiled fondly as he picked up one of the heart-shaped fruits and popped it in his mouth. He was as enthused as ever over something tasty to nibble on. As he licked the red juices and melted chocolate off his fingers, she wished… well, it was better that she didn’t. In an effort of distraction, she handed over the bottle.

He took a minute to register the offering, eyes closed as he savored the taste of the chocolate covered berries in his mouth. When he did, he flashed a genuine smile and grasped the bottle, their fingers brushing briefly in the exchange.

“Cheers!” he said happily and tipped the bottle back to take a long swig.

Slack-jawed, she tried and failed not to gape at his throat working as he swallowed. If the Doctor noticed her staring, he didn’t let on. Just rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand and gestured to the platter between them.

“Try the herzberries,” he urged. “They’re gorgeous.”

Rose blinked, shaking away the improper thoughts that were quickly clouding her mind. Somewhere in the past few minutes, the concept of having sex with the Doctor crossed wires with his firm insistence that this was not going to happen today. Still, the very idea was immensely tempting.

“Right,” she sighed, picking up a fruit for herself.

As soon as the chocolate coating hit her tongue it began to melt… smooth and rich, with the perfect balance of sweet and bitter. When she bit down, the tart and succulent flavor of the berry burst in her mouth. Sweet and earthy and sour all mixed together as she chewed in a delicious combination. She hummed her appreciation quietly but an errant thought nagged in her mind as she swallowed.

“These aren’t like… you know?” She tried to send him a meaningful look but he just regarded her blankly. “Oysters or prawns?”

“Oh!” His eyes widened as he caught on. “I think they’re more like chocolate covered strawberries,” he said as though that explained everything.

She gave him a withering look

The Doctor cleared his throat. “Which is to say, they have perceived romantic value, but no evidence to support that they affect arousal in any way.”

“Ah,” Rose intoned in understanding.

She plucked another berry from the tray and he handed back the bottle. “Eat, then drink,” he suggested. “They’re meant to pair, after all.”

With a nod she ate the berry and then took a drink. The result was glorious. Another level of flavors added to the mix -- sweet and dry, juicy and flowery. Rose moaned quietly as the tastes combined in her mouth.

The Doctor stiffened and she panicked, wondering if her vocal enjoyment was too much. But then she noticed his attention was directed behind her. She turned to find the white plastic headboard was really some kind of electronic display; unfamiliar symbols scrawling across the screen.

“What…?” she ventured curiously.

He smile was wide, almost manic. “It’s working!”

“Here.” She grinned, offering him the wine bottle. “Your turn.”

He accepted the elderwine and repeated her combination; a berry and then a sip of wine. He hummed his pleasure at the exquisite taste as well, making Rose feel better about her own reaction, even as the sound suffused heat low in her belly. The Doctor opened his eyes again, glancing behind her and frowning noticeably.

“Oh,” he said.

Rose turned to look at the screen. She couldn’t make any sense of the characters blinking on its surface. “What is it now?”

“A countdown,” he told her, shoulders slumping in defeat. His eyes darted around the room suspiciously. “I think we’re being watched. CCTV, probably.”

A chill crept up her spine at the thought that strange aliens were spying on them when they were supposed to be engaged in such private activities.

“Alright,” Rose began, deciding to accept their situation at face value. Nothing much they could do to change it, at this point. “So what now?”

“We'll have to pretend,” he resolved. “There are covers on the bed to leave our activities to the imagination and our proximity should be enough to register… _something_ more from the receptors. They’ll just assume it’s a…” He coughed awkwardly. “Dissatisfied customer.”

“Right,” she grumbled. As if that was so much better. Rose pretending to shag him and the Doctor pretending to be immensely dissatisfied.

“Well,” Rose said, slapping her hands on her thighs. “No time like the present to start fake shagging.”

If they had to do this, they may as well get it over with like mature adults. He blinked, as though the words took a moment to register. The Doctor nodded absently and the room fell into a tense silence for a long moment. Finally, he gathered the platter of herzberries and the bottle and returned them to the bar, effectively clearing the bed.

Rose stood, trying to gather her wits, hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. The Doctor came back to stand before her, looking about as awkward as she felt.

“Right,” he murmured, an unintentional echo of her earlier words. The Doctor crossed the distance between them, reaching out for her hand when he was close enough. “Rose.” He looked up at her, almost shyly. “May I kiss you?”

Her heart stuttered in her chest. Rose was going to be a complete mess if he was going to do things like that. She licked her lips and tried not to notice how his eyes were drawn to the involuntary reflex.

“Maybe we should come up with some rules? About what’s allowed, or…” She winced at how impartial she sounded.

“Sure,” he agreed, but Rose wondered if she was imagining the disappointment in his voice. “Whatever makes you most comfortable.”

“Well,” she said soberly. “I guess we have to, you know… snog and stuff.”

“It’s not a requirement. I’m sure you’ve seen the movie ‘Pretty Woman.’” He gave a rueful smile.

“I mean, I don’t mind,” Rose replied; in what was perhaps the understatement of the millenia. “As long as you don’t. Gotta make it authentic and everything."

If she was going to suffer through pretending she didn’t care one way or the other about simulating sex with the Doctor, she may as well get something for it. For all she knew, this could be her only chance at kissing him.

“Alright, snogging goes under the ‘acceptable’ list,” he said evenly, but there was a smug grin fighting to get through, she could see it. “Anything else I should know?”

There probably was. But the Doctor was so close now, his hand in hers and his form looming over her. And all this talk of kissing… it was a wonder she could breathe, let alone think.

“Dunno. Probably. I guess I won’t know until...” She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. “Maybe we should just --”

Before she could finish, she felt him capture her mouth in a sudden kiss. The contact was soft and tentative, despite his boldness at exploiting her closed eyes. Rose was just mustering the awareness to kiss back when he pulled away, just a fraction.

His lips brushed hers as he spoke. “Make it up as we go?” He whispered, finishing her thought.

“Yeah,” she breathed, head spinning and pulse racing through her body.

He nodded; just a slight movement, rubbing his nose playfully against hers before pressing their lips together again. This time, Rose was ready. She opened her mouth to his, inviting him to deepen their kiss, as her arms came up around his shoulders and her hands found their way into the shorter, softer hairs at the back of his head.

The Doctor allowed himself to get swept up in her ardor, parting his lips for the careful exploration of her tongue. She gripped his hair lightly as her tongue finally brushed his; a spark igniting deep within. Rose fought back a moan, channeling her pleasure by nibbling his bottom lip instead.

He hummed appreciatively and pressed a little peck on her lips before putting the space between them to speak once more. “Back up,” he said, the sound rumbling deep in his chest.

Rose gasped, trying to make sense of his words. “What?”

“Bed,” he reminded her. “We need the bed.”

What should have been some of the most erotic words ever out the of the Doctor’s mouth had the opposite effect; like a bucket of ice water falling on Rose. A cold reminder that none of this was genuine, just a ruse to save their arses from getting thrown in jail. She swallowed down her disappointment and obeyed, walking backwards until her calves hit the mattress.

She plopped down on the bed and the Doctor turned so he was sitting next to her. Her apprehension must have shown because he studied the change in her face. Rose tried to school her features back towards neutral acceptance.

“What’s wrong?” He reached up a hand to cup her cheek.

She scoffed. “You mean other than --” he cut her off by moving his thumb over her mouth.

“Fair enough,” he relented. “If you ever want to stop, just tell me.”

His eyes were so full of concern, she found she had to look away. She peeled his hand from her cheek and held it in her lap.

“I thought we were just pretending?” she questioned with just a touch of doubt.

He squeezed her hand encouragingly. “Even so.”

“I think I just want to get this over with, yeah?” She heaved a restless sigh and chanced a look at him again.

His brow was furrowed and his lips pursed tightly. “Sure,” he agreed, but somehow it felt more like a defeat than a victory.

“Should we just…” she hedged, and internally kicked herself at the way she suddenly couldn’t finish a sentence around him. Why was this so bloody hard? “Our clothes.”

He startled slightly. “Of course,” he said, but the concept didn’t seem as intuitive as he made out.

His disjointed reaction made her wonder if he really even did this. He was alien, after all, and in the little he’d divulged about his planet so far there was never any talk of Time Lord mating habits. Although he had insisted he ‘ _danced_ ,’ back when he wore leather. And his frequent flirtation with females of most species seemed clear enough.

Which led to the distressing thought that he just didn’t think of doing this with her. Well. That was humbling. But it would explain a lot. Like why they’d never discussed what happened with Cassandra. And the Doctor’s general detachment from this whole strange scenario.

As Rose was ruminating, the Doctor walked around to the other side of the bed and began to disrobe. She had seen everything already on Christmas -- enough to know he _looked_ human -- but dutifully turned to face the opposite wall while she undressed herself. Once her first layer was off, the overhead lights in the room shut off automatically. The floor lamps dimmed but stayed on and the black ceiling now displayed a glitter of sparkling stars.

“Guess that means they _are_ watching us,” she muttered, mostly to herself.

She wondered what that meant for the amount of clothes she’d have to remove. To start, she stripped down to her bra and knickers. No need to uncover anything more than necessary.

As she waited for the Doctor to finish, she took in an inset shelf above the nightstand; backlit with a dim fluorescent bulb. The shelf housed a myriad of bottles with what looked to be various massage oils and lubricants. Everything an escort might need to get her client in the mood.

Behind her, Rose heard the rustle of bedclothes as the Doctor slid under the sheets on the bed. With a deep, bracing breath, Rose did the same, keeping her back to him until she was fully situated. Finally, she turned over to face him.

His relaxed posture belied the seriousness of the situation, laying out with the covers tucked up under his arm and his head resting on the pillow. He smiled when she looked back and she returned the grin reflexively. If not for the cameras and the pressure to simulate shagging, this could have been any normal evening sharing a bed with him, before Rose inevitably dozed off to sleep.

The Doctor found her her hand under the covers and gripped it tightly. “Ready?”

Rose rolled her eyes. “As I’ll ever be, yeah.”

She just had to think of this like any other distraction they’d acted out to get away from -- or out of -- trouble in their travels. Putting this situation into that perspective, she was starting to feel a little bit better. They’d made it through worse than this.

With a nod, he made his first move; trailing his fingers up her arm and over her shoulder, only to stop when he met with the strap of her bra. He pulled his hand away suddenly and Rose watched his cheeks color. It was the first time she could ever remember really seeing him blush. Not a bad look on her new, new Doctor, but she tried to push those thought away.

“Erm…” he stuttered. “You’re going to need to take off your…”

“What?” she asked; and yes, she was being deliberately obtuse but _damn it_ , if he wanted it he was bloody well gonna have to say it.

He pursed his lips tightly and swallowed reflexively; a pair of less familiar nervous gestures Rose took in from up close.

“Knickers,” he blurted out finally. “At the very least.” He seemed to regain a bit of his old charm, then, flashing a cheeky smile. “Your top would be more authentic.”

Inwardly, Rose scoffed, but nonetheless she obeyed. He turned so he was laying on his back as she shimmied out of her knickers beneath the sheets. When they were off her legs, she tossed them aside with a flourish -- a small, defiant nod to whomever might be watching.

“Maybe you’re not into breasts,” she goaded.

The Doctor took the bait, as expected, chuckling dryly.  “I don’t think that’s very plausible.”

“But I’m the escort, right?” she challenged obstinately, remembering the deception that got them into this mess. “Don’t I make the rules?”

Her voice must have taken on a harder edge than she planned because he flinched, turning his head to look up at the ceiling. “Yes, you do. I’m sorry.”

And suddenly Rose felt childish, being so awful to him when he was trying to make this as painless as he possibly could. Before she could think better of it, she leaned forward and gave him a gentle peck on the lips as recompense.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.”

He gave her a small smile, still a bit hesitant and unsure. It felt like a gift; a little treasure designed solely for her comfort. “You can leave it on if you like. I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” she answered quickly. “Thanks, but I’ll…” Rose reached back and undid the clasp -- did she imagine his subtle hitch in breath? -- then shrugged out of the bra, tossing it aside carelessly. “I don’t want there to be any question.”

She nodded to the corner of the room, indicating the camera, wherever it was.

He cleared his throat and the sound suddenly seemed loud. “Right. Good point.”

Both heads on their respective pillows, they stared at one another for a long moment, neither quite sure how to make the first move. This silence was only slightly less awkward, tinged with anticipation. Before Rose could speak, the Doctor reached between them and cupped her cheek with his hand.

“I’m sorry about all this,” he said, his eyes searching hers -- for blame or forgiveness she couldn’t be sure.

“Could be worse.” Rose shrugged, maintaining her casual facade. “At least I’m with you.”

He smiled hopefully, brushing his thumb softly against her skin. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” she affirmed, a small answering smile tugging at her lips. “I’m glad. Can’t be that bad if it’s us, right?”

And Rose found that she meant it. As awkward and strange as this whole debacle was, she was with him and not someone else. Because at this point, there was no one else in the universe she wanted to be naked in a bed with.

They were both startled when soft music began to fill the room; a crystalline, tinkling sound, like a glass bell choir. At the same time, several flames flicked on from electric candles around the room. The faint smell of propane appeared and quickly vanished from the air.

Rose snorted in amusement.  “Guess we’re taking too long.”

She was reminded of their voyeurs somewhere in the building and the royal guard outside. They needed to get this over with, so they could form a plan.

Impulsively, she leaned forward once again, kissing the Doctor chastely on the lips. But this time, she didn’t pull away. She kissed him again; tilted her head and again, scooted closer and again… her mouth moving over his continuously as one kiss melted into another. He was effectively distracted by their snog, so Rose saw her chance to take charge.

She climbed on top of him, straddling his stomach while carefully keeping her body hovering over him. Their lips stayed connected, and her inner thighs brushed against his sides, but other than that they barely touched. The Doctor brought his hands to her legs as she settled, helping steady her.

Rose was startled yet again when the headboard above them chirped and flickered.

“Relax,” he breathed against her lips. “It’s just the energy monitor.”

His firm grip down near where her knees hit the bed seemed almost gentlemanly… until his hand smoothed up on the outside of her thighs to rest on her hips. Rose broke their kiss, trying to stifle her squeak of surprise.

“Since they are watching us, apparently,” he whispered. “You’re going to have to get closer.”

“I can't help...” She gave him a meaningful look, willing him to understand. In a moment, the slickness between her legs would be revealed.

“I know,” he said, giving her a wan, reassuring smile. “No reason to be ashamed. It's perfectly natural.”

Inwardly, Rose scoffed. Easy for him to say, _mister superior biology alien_. But outwardly, she merely nodded, and dropped down so their bodies pressed against one another from hips to chest. She was partly relieved and partly jealous to find he’d kept his pants on.

“Alright?” he asked, his voice tense.

“Yeah,” she murmured into his neck. “You?”

He nodded, his hands tightening briefly on her hips. “Fine.”

Slowly, he encouraged her to move. Vague, sweeping motions that simulated thrusting but only gave enough friction to tease, never satisfy. Rose tried to tell herself this was all relatively normal, in the grand scheme of things. She was always flustered and aroused around the Doctor. Every hug and glance and accidental touch got her hot and bothered… just now they happened to be naked. In a bed. In a love hotel.

Focusing on compartmentalizing her desire, Rose concentrated on keeping her breathing even. After a moment, she began to smell it... a sweet scent of flowers. She turned her head away from the Doctor, sniffing the air.

She inhaled deeply. “‘s that… Perfume?”

“Soluthen Yasmon,” he said by way of an answer. “There are 350 species of flower related to Earth’s jasmine in the universe. The scent is widely recognized for eliciting a sensual response.”

Rose couldn’t help but laugh. At the whole strange situation, at his lecture in the middle of -- albeit fake -- shagging. It was just so _them_ to land themselves in something like this. In her mirth, her body shook above him, against him, and the Doctor held her hips fast, trying to stifle her movements.

“ _Rose_ ,” he grit out through clenched teeth.

She lifted herself off him, putting a bit of distance between their bodies.

“Sorry,” she whispered, genuinely contrite. “It’s just kinda soppy innit? Candles, jasmine, music?”

He scoffed. “Seems to work for the Aembrans.”

And she wondered if she was imagining a bit of insult on behalf of the native people of Aembra.

“Guess it’s not so different,” she mumbled, her mind drifting to so many romantic books and movies where the heroine wanted her first time in a manner just like this. Well… the candles and the music, maybe. Probably not the cameras.

And with that thought, Rose was encouraged once again to get this over with. She lowered her hips back down and gasped when her center came into contact with his clothed erection that _definitely_ was not there before. The Doctor’s head was turned away from her, but she could see a blush staining his cheeks.

She managed a comforting smile. “Perfectly natural, yeah?”

“It’s not. I…” He licked his lips and shook his head. “I should have better control…”

“The jasmine?” she wondered aloud. Maybe it affected Time Lords differently.

“No,” he rasped. “It’s you.”

Her breath hitched. And then for a moment she forgot to breathe entirely. “Oh,” she exhaled roughly.

“Yeah,” he sighed, still avoiding her eyes.

“Doctor,” Rose ventured into the uncomfortable silence. “I want you.” He finally looked at her, then, with wide eyes and shock registering on his face. Rose clapped his chest lightly in protest. “Oi, don’t look so surprised.”

“Sorry,” he replied automatically.

“Anyway,” she continued, grinding against him until he groaned. “I think maybe you want me, too. And hopefully not just ‘cause…” She bit her lip, unsure if she wanted to finish that sentence.

The Doctor reached up, gently brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “Always, Rose.” He swallowed reflexively. “I always want you.”

She smiled, then; a true, elated grin. “So can we…?” She rocked her hips in demonstration.

He gasped and Rose delighted in watching his face twist in pleasure. “Here?”

Rose giggled. “We’re already pretending,” she reminded him. “I mean, if you want.”

“Oh, Rose,” he breathed, looking up at her with a mixture of awe and desire. “I want.”

“Good,” she whispered, then captured his lips.

This kiss was better right from the start. The Doctor opened his mouth to her instantly, his hands coming up to bury in her hair and his tongue sneaking out to slide against hers in a playful duel for dominance. Mouths occupied, her hands wedged between them, working to get his pants off -- the last remaining barrier between them. He lifted his hips, helping her shimmy the offending garment down and off his legs.

A little maneuvering and and Rose was poised and ready. The Doctor pulled back, staring fondly into her eyes for a breathless moment before she slid down on his length and, with an appreciative hum, they were joined in blissful unity. _Yes_. This is what she wanted. This was so much better, taking him inside her.

Rose reveled in the moment, content to draw out this first and commit every sensation to memory; the coolness of the crisp white sheets against her back, the warming air between them, and the gorgeous feeling of his cock filling the empty space that ached for him. Coming back to herself, she found the Doctor was waiting for her; still allowing her to take charge, as he’d promised since the beginning.

Well, if she was in control, she may as well take advantage.

She lifted up slowly, mimicking their earlier ruse of lovemaking and delighting in learning the stroke of his length deep inside her -- inch by agonizing inch. Her languid pace was made all the more satisfying by the sight of him overcome and frustrated; eyes squeezed tight and mouth open in a breathless sigh. And knowing she’d affected him this way.

Keeping her lazy pace, Rose elevated her shoulders, mindful not to dislodge the sheet, to give herself enough room to scratch her fingers down his chest. There would be time to touch every part of him, she’d make sure of it, but while he was at her mercy she wanted to explore.

Underneath her, the Doctor was growing impatient. He opened his eyes to fix her with a dark stare.

“Rose,” he ground out, and she was pleased to note his voice had lowered nearly a decibel and was husky with desire. “Are you waiting for some signal I’m unaware of? Because I’m pretty sure taking me inside you is a universal signal for ‘go.’”

She ambushed him with a full tongue-in-teeth grin. “What’s your hurry?”

In the next moment she found her world flipped as he rolled them over. She gasped in surprise as her back hit the mattress but quickly recovered, the teasing smirk spreading across her face again.

“Your smile,” he mumbled between hot, open-mouthed kisses along her neck. “And your scent. Your kiss. And your body, _Rose_.” He moaned as he pulled out and thrust inside her again. “Isn’t that enough teasing?”

Rose laughed, a hoarse, throaty sound and he groaned into her shoulder. “Nothing but teasing,” she panted between breaths. “Since you took my hand…”

She never got to finish her thought. Her words spurred the Doctor on with a new sense of urgency. He thrust into her roughly and she cried out at the sparks ignited by such powerful friction. Rose dragged her hand up his back to bury in his hair, murmuring encouragements into his ear as he picked up the pace, rocking his hips into hers faster and deeper than before.

It was exquisite, feeling him lose control and give over to the passion driving them both onwards to oblivion. Rose nearly forgot where they were and lost herself in pleasure; the feel of the Doctor moving with her, within her, becoming her whole world.

It was only when she took note of the sounds of their mingled gasps and moans, the rhythmic slapping of flesh, and the imagined sight of his arse moving enticingly beneath the sheet, that she gave it a thought -- there was no disguising what they were doing now. The fleeting notion disappeared as the Doctor snuck his hand between them to play with the bundle of nerves above where they were joined.

He moaned her name helplessly as he braced a hand against the headboard, his hips pounding into hers wildly now. “ _Please_ ,” he begged, voice coarse and vulnerable.

And in that perfect moment, all the walls between them crashed down. The swirl of his thumb against her oversensitized flesh, the reckless tempo of his thrusts, every grunt and gasp was raw and honest. Rose found his lips with hers, answered his plea as she cried out her release into his greedy mouth. She shuddered and convulsed around him as pleasure sparkled beneath her skin.

Burning in her own ecstasy, watching him fall after was all the sweeter. She felt his climax everywhere -- in the passionate cries swallowed down from his lips, the tremble of his body against hers, and the warm pulse within. Her skin was still buzzing as he sagged on top of her; a warm and comfortable, if a bit sweaty, weight.

Head swimming and ears ringing, she barely registered when he lifted his head from its resting place on her shoulder.

“Rose,” he panted, the regular exuberance back in his tone. “We’re rich!”

She tilted her head back just a fraction, too boneless and satisfied to really move. The headboard was flashing and unfamiliar symbols danced across the screen. They meant as little to her upside-down as they did the right way up.

“I get it,” she groused cheekily. “You only want me for my money.”

“What?” A hint of worry crept into his voice as he looked back down at her, smoothing a few damp locks of hair from her face. “You know that’s not why…”

“I know. I was joking,” Rose assured him quickly. “Sorry, I’m a little…” She gestured vaguely and took a deep breath.

“Oh, I should say so!” The Doctor smirked wickedly.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully. “Proud of yourself, are you?”

“A bit,” he replied smugly. “Not only did we pay for our room, but with one shag we amassed a small fortune. We’re brilliant!”

Rose squirmed a little beneath him and the Doctor took the hint, rolling off to the side and tucking her close to him, unwilling to put even an inch between them. He rested his head on his hand, arm bent at the elbow, the better to watch over her.

“Brilliant at shagging,” she chirped. “Who knew we had that secret talent all this time. Should make a career outta that.”

He smiled, all eager and oddly innocent, issuing a happy noise from the back of his throat.

She studied him closely. “But I already have, haven’t I? If I’m the escort… it’s my fortune, innit?”

“Absolutely,” he agreed easily. “And what exactly would you like to do with your earnings, Dame Rose?”

Rose huffed. “Buy our way out of this mess, for starters.”

“Ah, but that’s just for a start,” he said, the proud grin spreading slowly across his face.

Her eyes widened in understanding. “That much?”

“Oh, yes.” He nodded.

“Hmm,” she hummed thoughtfully. “May as well buy off the royal family, then. Complete the revolution, while we’re at it.”

His eyes shone with the excitement that always appeared when he thought she was being clever. “Mmm, we could. Turn the whole sex industry on its head. Inflate the economy so much it undermines the power of the ruling class.” He made a face. “Could take time, though.”

“Time,” she ventured, reaching her hand out to touch him. “Or a _boatload_ of money.”

“What did you have in mind?” The Doctor smiled conspiratorially.

“ _Well_ ,” Rose drew out the word in a perfect homage to her accomplice. “That depends.” She raised an eyebrow in consideration. “How long do we have this room?”


End file.
